


In its True Light

by HamHamHeaven



Series: Greyscale [23]
Category: Jrock, lynch. (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Colorblind Soulmate AU, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Platonic Kissing, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamHamHeaven/pseuds/HamHamHeaven
Summary: Life is always better with a best friend at your side.





	1. Of Blood and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion of family over the breakfast table.

“Good morning,” Reo greets Asanao as he shuffles his way toward the coffee pot.  “We got a postcard from your mother and her husband.”

He points at a shiny card sitting atop the stack of bills and fliers.  Asanao grabs it on his way toward the table, rolls his eyes at the stylized Māori statue wearing a floral lei, and unenthusiastically flips it over to read his mother’s note.

 “Nice weather… good food… dolphins.  Cool.  D’you wanna read this, or can I chuck it in the bin?”

“What?  No, you can’t throw it away!” Reo grabs the card from his hand, shocked.

“Why not?” asks Asanao nonplussed.

“I’m hanging it on the refrigerator until they’re back so she can see with her own eyes that we got it.  You know how mothers are.”

Asanao sprawls onto a chair at the dining table with a huff.

“I still don’t see why a woman of her age needs a honeymoon.”

“What’s age got to do with it?  She wanted to see Hawaii; her soulmate wanted to take her.  Neither of them has trouble getting around yet.  Why shouldn’t they have a nice vacation, even at 75?”

Asanao grunts, and Reo leans down to give his disgruntled best friend a kiss on the cheek before settling in his own seat.

“You could _try_ to be a bit more supportive,” he chides lightly as he deftly sorts through the rest of the post.

“I _am_ supportive,” retorts Asanao.  “We went to her wedding, didn’t we?  I let the pair of you drag me up front for that ridiculous photo that’s now framed on our mantelpiece.  Even though I look like a damn clown in that suit.”

“Stop it.  You look very handsome in that suit, and that’s the only picture of the four of us we’ve got.  If you don’t like it, you’re going to have to agree to take another one as a replacement.”

Asanao grimaces at his partner, who nods knowingly.

“That’s the exact reaction I expected.  Anyway, don’t you think a son attending his mother’s wedding is the bare minimum?  No one’s expecting you to call him ‘Dad’, but you needn’t be so hostile to the idea of her being remarried.”

“You can’t tell me you wouldn’t be weirded out by your mother getting remarried.”

Reo adjusts his reading glasses and gives his best friend a pointed look.

“Considering my father is still alive, it would be rather shocking of her.  But if, God forbid, something did happen to him and she found someone else to ease her loneliness… well, I can’t say it would be easy for me, but I would _try_ to be understanding.”

“A-a-and that’s why Mother loves you more than me,” Asanao replies with an indifferent shrug.

“She does _not_ ,” Reo denies, smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

After a lifetime as best friends, Reo is her second favourite by only the slimmest of margins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Didn't get any writing accomplished this week due to travel/family holiday stuff. So here's a small vignette from something I haven't started posting yet.  
>  **2)** Title references two songs by MUCC (Mae He - In Its True Light and World's End - In Its True Light).


	2. That Which We Call Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misery floats to the surface at the end of a long week.

It’s been a long week.  When Asanao collapses in front of the television to decompress with a few beers and watch something mindless, he’s not really paying attention to the subdued atmosphere surrounding his best friend.  Reo’s on his usual cushion at the end of the sofa reading a book and doesn’t even grunt when Asanao flops down beside him.  He just lifts his elbow enough for Asanao to slide his feet under his partner’s arm, using Reo’s lap as a foot stool of sorts as he stretches the full length of the sofa.

“Noise won’t bother you, will it?” he asks, grabbing for the remote control.

“It’s fine,” Reo shakes his head.  “Just keep the volume to a reasonable level.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

The fact that Reo doesn’t scold him for that remark is his first clue that something’s on his companion’s mind.  But it’s a clue he misses just then because he’s too distracted finding a comfortable position in which to lie without getting a glare off the screen, then scrolling through the channels.  He’s glad he decided to come home rather than going out drinking with Nero and the others.  They’re great guys, and hanging out with them is always fun, but today’s just not one of those days.  Asanao can already feel what’s left of his energy draining away, and he wonders if he’ll actually be able to stay awake through the entire action film he’s settled on or if he’ll be snoring half-way through.

“Have you eaten?” Reo queries without looking over.

“Stopped for a burger on my way back.”

Asanao braces for a reprimand about his unhealthy eating habits, but Reo simply hums in acknowledgement and turns the page.  That’s Asanao’s second clue.

“You weren’t waiting on me to eat, were you?”

He pokes at the spine of the book with his toe.  Reo drops a hand onto his friend’s ankle, unconsciously stroking at the bit of bone exposed between trouser leg and sock.

“Not hungry.  I had a late lunch.”

Silence falls between them.  Asanao watches his program through a beer-infused haze, chuckling or jeering now and then at the more unrealistic bits; Reo reads his novel one word at a time, getting very little out of it.  Eventually, he gives up entirely.

As soon as the next commercial break begins, he removes his glasses and sets the book aside.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.”

He gives Asanao’s ankle one last pat and slides out from under his feet.  Like some lounging feline, Asanao reaches out and bats gently at his partner’s hand as he passes.

“Probably head that way myself as soon as this is over.”

“K, g’night.”

Reo shuffles out of the main room heading straight for his bedroom without so much as glancing toward the door to make sure it’s locked or turning off the lamp before he goes.  That’s Asanao’s third clue.

The commercial ends, and the movie cuts back in on a close-up of the hero’s sneering, sweat-drenched face.  The plot hurtles on toward its climax, heedless of practicality or common sense, but Asanao isn’t particularly watching it anymore.  He’s gazing after his roommate, wondering if there’s something wrong or if he just imagined it.

He glances back at the screen.  It’s not as though he doesn’t know what’s going to happen: the hero will speed away in the expensive automobile, scantily-clad female love-interest at his side, a line of explosions in his wake.  It won’t hurt to miss the conclusion of this one in order to ensure that Reo is okay.  Asanao hits the power button on the control and heaves himself off the sofa with a groan.  He checks the lock on the front door, doubling back to grab up his empty cans and toss them in the recycling bin on his way to do the same at the back door.  He turns off the remaining lights as he goes, then makes his way along the corridor toward the bedrooms, shedding clothing _en route_.

By the time he reaches Reo’s door, he’s down to his boxer-briefs.  Asanao pitches everything else into his own room in the general direction of the clothes hamper, and then looks in on his partner.  Reo’s lying, not on his back at the centre of the bed like he generally does, but on his side off to one edge.  The fourth clue that something’s weighing on his best friend’s mind and a silent invitation for Asanao to join him.  Without hesitation, Asanao accepts.  He slides down under the blankets behind Reo, immediately letting out a hiss of discomfort.

“Holy shit, Babe, your feet are freezing!”

“Language.”

Asanao ignores the rebuke and drags Reo closer by the hip.

“C’mere.  Let’s get you warmed up.”

He rubs vigorously over Reo’s bare arms and chest, nuzzling and kissing his neck.

“What the hell would you do without me around to keep you from turning into an icicle?”

Reo shrugs.

“Wear a second pair of socks, I suppose.”

He says it with complete indifference, as if he really wouldn’t care if he froze to death.

“You were wearing socks earlier, for all the good it did you,” Asanao reminds him.  “Do I need to go grab the extra cover from my room?”

“I’ll be warm enough in a few minutes.”

Asanao props himself up on one elbow, leaning over to tilt Reo’s chin toward himself.

“C’mere,” he purrs again.

Reo sighs in contentment, or maybe it’s relief, as his lips connect with Asanao’s in a long, slow kiss.  Which turns into several as Reo starts to finally relax.  Melting, healing under the familiar sensation of undemanding lips and tongue and hands.

“Even your nose is cold,” observes Asanao, brushing the tips of their noses together.

He snuggles down beneath the covers again, warm chest pressed tightly to Reo’s back.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s got you all in a twist?  Or do I have to drag it out of you.”

Reo squirms a little.

“Nothing….”

Asanao gives a loud snort.

“…And everything.  I don’t know, Nao; there’s no one particular thing that I can point to and say ‘That’s the reason I feel miserable’.  I’m just… so tired.”

“Well, it _is_ kinda late, and we’ve had a long week.”

Reo sighs again.

“I don’t mean that kind of tired; I mean… _weary_ in my soul.  Exhausted.  Ready to give up… on everything.  Delete my entire existence and just disappear.  If it weren’t for its being a sin….”

This trailing, unfinished thought worries Asanao.  From their adolescence, Reo has always been the solemn type, taking things more to heart than other people.  However, the desire to disappear from existence but for religious diktats sounds dangerously like the onset of depression.  And something in the way Reo shudders tells Asanao that his dearest companion is fighting tears.

“How do I help, Babe?” he asks softly.

Reo presses back against him a bit more and draws Asanao’s arm more securely around himself.

“I don’t….  Just… hold me for a while?”

Asanao tightens his embrace and brushes another soft kiss under Reo’s ear just along the jaw line.

“Forever if you need me that long,” he assures.

“Sentimental sap,” accuses Reo, but Asanao can hear the affection and gratitude in his voice.

“Only for you, Babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** As IRL, Reo was raised Catholic.  
>  **2)** I have been feeling very Reo lately, though unfortunately I do not have a Nao of my own.


End file.
